A Trickle of Soulfyre

Chapter 1 - Daisies

Lyrani's folded clothes stood on her bed in a squat pile that reminded her of cornflower pancakes. It was the only spot of order in a room scattered with sparkling dresses, elegant coats, and heeled shoes that hadn't left the cottage in months and wouldn't for a few more.

Lyrani was travelling light this time, as per her orders from Lord Dundor. She looked over what she had prepared to pack. There were just two tunics, two sets of leggings, and two pairs of socks. Her toiletries were packed into their little bag, standing beside each other like sentinels, again, only the essentials: moisturiser, sunscreen, and a waxy-smelling cream to keep the insects away that her best friend Dessie swore by.

Now, if she could just find the backpack to fit them into...

She sighed, running her hands through the silken strands of her black hair and gathering them into a ponytail.

She studied the darkness bordering her room like a frill on a dress. There was one place she hadn't looked.

Raising her hands, she parted the shadows at the edges of her bedroom. They peeled away from the walls like onion skin, and Lyrani peered behind them in a last attempt to locate her rucksack, but there was no sign of it.

She let out an exasperated breath. She had spent years mastering her rare ability to manipulate the darkness. It had hidden her from guards at the royal palace in Vlitavia and cloaked her when she hunted criminals, her murderous intent in the name of ECISI—Elvenland Council of Irylen Secret Intelligence. She had never imagined she would be defeated by a missing backpack.

Lyrani glanced out the arched window. The sun's brilliance diminished as it floated down from its peak on the cerulean backdrop of the sky. The afternoon had arrived. Soon, Lyrani's train would too, and nothing, not even an elusive rucksack, would earn her Lord Dundor's pardon if she missed it.

She returned her gaze to her room. It looked as though a hurricane had torn through it, but she would somehow have to find her backpack among the clutter, and soon.

"Lyrani Esch, where did you think you were going without this?" Dessie hurried into the room, a beaten trunk covered in elf-made leather dangling from her hand while her hibiscus petal skirt fluttered around her ankles. It was a bright orange that reminded Lyrani of the sunset she feared would fall before she could arrive at the meeting it heralded.

The trunk was big enough for a few outfits, a travel box of jewellery, and perhaps a fur coat or two. It even had a secret compartment that hid the tools of an assassin's trade from any suspicious, prying eyes, as Lyrani knew well. It was perfect, just not for this mission.

"Des, I'm not going to Vlitavia. I don't need such a big trunk." Lyrani sat at the edge of her bed with a deep sigh.

Dessie frowned, setting the trunk down at her feet with a soft thump. "I thought you were. You've been talking about nothing else for weeks."

So Lyrani had. Once, it had been the intrigue and wonder of the palace that drew her there. Now, it was the man who ruled it who she longed to see, even more than the castle built into the tree branches, stretching all the way to the stars.

She didn't blame Dessie for being confused. Sometimes her plans were too intricate to follow, too obscure to make sense, confusing her too.

"I'm going to Vlitavia for the briefing." Lyrani smoothed the tunic at the top of her pile of clothes. "As for my mission... I don't know where that's going to send me."

Lord Dundor had softened since he was reunited with the son he never knew he had, but the director still ran ECISI with the same sternness that made it the most formidable of the elven secret intelligence agencies. That meant that all details of Lyrani's missions were kept under wraps until the briefing. No exceptions.